Dangerous Beings
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. Please don't read if your offended by child abuse and rape, it's not graphic but it's in there.
1. Chapter 1

**Dangerous Beings**

**Summary...Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This fic does have child abuse, but it wont be graphic, if you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... all owned by Kripkie the Y.E.D.**

**Chapter 1. Sammy's point of view.**

The day started normally enough, he and Dean had been left alone once again, in an unforgettable motel, in an equally unforgettable town, while their dad had gone on a hunt with Caleb. After playing the Pac-man machine at the local seven-eleven until they were out of quarters, they'd started a game of one on one at the basketball court of the school they were currently attending. Laughing and joking they were making the most of the late September sun. Sam had just managed an outstanding three pointer when he noticed a group of Dean's friends approaching.

"Hey Winchester, what's up?"

"Not much guy's, what you up to?"

"Was thinking of having a game but we're one short? You want to join?"

Dean hesitated he really did want to play but that would mean Sam would be left out and given his brothers very short attention span that wasn't a very good idea. Thinking on his feet he came up with a plan.

"Hey Sammy, why don't you go get us some soda's and check out the movies pick one out for tonight. Call my cell if you have any trouble".

"Okay Dean." Sam replied.

Feeling a bit guilty for using Sam's need for a bit of independence against him he gave his brother ten bucks before turning back to the guys. Sam walked away feeling immensely tall, his big brother was allowing him to go to the mini mart on his own, normally he would have a hard time being allowed to do after school activities let alone walk anywhere by himself, even if it was less than five hundred yards away. Practicing basketball moves with an imaginary ball he role played a game in his head oblivious to the two sets of eyes watching him from across the other side of the park. Making it to the store he greeted the young girl behind the counter.

"Hey Sandy, how are you today?"

"Doing okay Sam, it's a bit quiet though. Where's the handsome one today?"

Sam chuckled "Playing basketball I just came for sodas and a movie."

Picking up two cokes he went to check the videos. Noting the lack of choice he picked up aliens, they hadn't watched it in a while and they both liked it. Paying for his purchases he wished Sandy a good day and exited the store, turning the corner he took the short cut through the alley to get back to the courts. A woman with dark hair and glasses was approaching him coming from the park walking her dog. Getting closer the dog started to wag its tail and dashing at his feet, within seconds he was tangled up in the leash, bending down he attempted to untangle himself whilst keeping the dog from licking his face.

"I'm so sorry." The woman said. "He's just very affectionate."

Chuckling softly to him self Sam didn't hear the footsteps behind him, didn't see the shadow of the arm that forced the cloth over his mouth and nose. Fear gripped him and he struggled in vain as the chemical coursed its way through his system. His last thoughts before unconsciousness grabbed him were of Dean and his father. Dean for the worry this was going to cause him. His dad for forgetting all his training. Rough hands picked him up as he finally succumbed to the darkness.

Startling awake Sam noticed three things, he was exceptionally cold, he was bound, gagged and blindfolded, and he wasn't alone. His sense of hearing was very good, but take away his other senses and it became exceptional, the barest scrap of fabric over floorboard had him jumping.

"Don't worry son, you'll be all better soon."

Sam's breath hitched as he recognized the voice as belonging to the lady from the park, his mind going into overdrive, what was going on?, what type of supernatural being was she?, why was he taken?, and most important of all what did she mean when she called him son?. The caresses on his face and neck had Sam cringing and panicking all the more, so much so that he almost missed the sharp sting on his arm as the needle entered. The drug worked quickly and he was submissive and compliant within minutes.

When he awoke he noted that he had been moved and he was no longer tied up, he was in a room that housed a filthy mattress on the floor and nothing else, checking the door he found it to be locked, the windows nailed shut, in the corner was a small empty closet. Sitting back down on the mattress he hugged his legs to his chest and lost the battle to keep the tears that now coursed down his face inside. It was some time later when he heard voices approaching. The door opened and the lady from the park entered closely followed by a guy.

"Its dinner time son, I made your favorites".

Placing the tray on the floor she turned back to the guy who bent down to kiss her hair, bolting up quickly Sam sensed his opportunity and dashed for the door. Unfortunately the man reacted as well, just managing to grab a handful of Sam's hair before yanking him viciously back and throwing him to the floor. Sam was immediately impeded as the man straddled him.

"You will behave boy otherwise you will be sorry." He spat out before proceeding to hit Sam repeatedly, by the time he had finished Sam was covered in bruises, had a swollen eye and busted lip and broken fingers from trying to defend him self. Kissing him softly on both cheeks the guy left the room.

"Oh son, it's for your own good if you'd just behave he wouldn't have to punish you so." The park lady cooed.

"I'm not your son, my name is Sam Winchester and my family will be worried and looking for me." Sam spat back.

"I don't think they will. They have got tired of always looking after you, they can't afford you anymore, they don't want you anymore, so they decided that you should stay with me and Graham. We'll make sure that you see what a normal life is like, it's going to be so much fun." She carried on in her cheery, creepy voice.

"They love me and they will be looking for me." Sam cried back, but his tone hinted that he didn't quite believe it himself.

Fondly stroking Sam's cheek the woman seemed to dismiss Sam's ranting. Reaching down she removed Sam's shirt and t-shirt and started assessing his battered body, his stomach rolled alarmingly when her administrations turned suddenly to caresses and her hands roamed around his chest and neck. Starting to panic, Sam started fighting back, his attempts were thwarted when Graham, the guy returned. Tying his hands behind his back, Graham moved down and helped the woman remove the rest of Sam's clothing, keeping hold of his legs whilst she finished her molestation, leaving Sam feeling nauseous and disgusted at his own body's reaction.

Crawling into the smallest ball he could make when they'd both finished and untied him, Sam prayed for Dean. The woman spooned against his back before soothingly murmuring.

"You see my son, your going to enjoy living with your new mum and dad. It'll be so much fun."

Feeling the pinch of the needle entering his skin, Sam welcomed the drug as it advanced through his veins, and cried himself into a disturbing sleep.

T.B.C...

**Was worried about posting this story as it is a bit dark, but it's just fiction. Hope I didn't offend anyone. Please review if you like it, if you don't like it, or if you think the rating needs changing.**

**Thanks for reading. Peanut x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean's 17. Rated T. This fic does have child abuse, but it's not graphic, if you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... Don't own anything supernatural, unless the nasty thing in my basement counts.**

**A.N... Thanks to all the people who read, reviewed and added to favorites, much appreciated. Should have mentioned last chapter that this is for JoyofReading who told me to post this fic in a review for my first story. Had a really quiet day at work today so spent all day writing, so just for you all here's chapter 2...**

Chapter 2. Dean, John and Sam.

Dean was starting to worry. Having been engrossed in the game, it was only when he was fouled and happened to glance at his watch that he noticed Sam had been gone for over half an hour, surely the movie choice couldn't be that extensive. Muttering apologies he made his way to the sidelines where he had placed his phone and shirt. Dialing Sam's number his worry intensified to downright panic when Sam didn't answer, putting his phone in his pocket and pulling on his top he started walking towards the mini-mart. Walking inside he took a quick look around and noting the lack of his brother spoke to the guy behind the counter.

"Hey Jack, you seen my brother?"

"No, but I just came on man, ask Sandy though, she's filling the fridges at the back."

Making his way to the back of the store he spotted the petite blonde he'd had fun flirting with since they'd moved here.

"Hey Sandy, you seen Sammy?" Dean asked, all sense of his usual flirty, fun self gone as his worry over his brother escalated.

"Yeah, but that was about twenty minutes ago. He left to go meet you back at the courts". Noting with alarm all the color drain from Dean's face she added. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Hopefully nothing, if he comes back in can you tell him to stay here and call me, please?" Dean stated as he made his way back out of the store.

Grabbing his phone back out of his pocket he tried Sam's number again, hoping he'd just gone back to the motel for a shower. After letting it ring until voicemail he rejected the call and tried again. Having cut the call again, he was trying a third time when he heard it. Making his way to the trashcan at the edge of the park he cautiously looked inside. Nestled amongst other people's assorted trash was two sodas', a movie and Sam's cell phone. Panic turned to dread and taking out his phone again he dialed his dad's number, leaving the usual voice message, before starting to look around for clues.

Not finding much to go on he returned to the motel, praying to God that Sam had just had some trouble and returned there, but knowing in his heart this wasn't true and he wouldn't be there. Practically breaking down the door in his haste to get inside, Dean ran into the room, it was empty. "Sammy." Dean shouted moving towards the small bathroom. Finding it also empty, his frustrations and worry finally got the better of him. The bathroom mirror took the first hit, the contents of the small shelf came down next, the shower curtain was ripped from its fixing and the door nearly torn of it's hinges. Moving into the other room Dean didn't stop, tears falling freely down his face. By the time he had finished nothing was left untouched. A forlorn figure sat slumped in a corner amidst a jumbled mess of broken glass, overturned beds, discarded clothing and smashed furniture.

Breaking out of his trance some time later, Dean realized the pointlessness of his actions, feeling new bouts of guilt that he'd wasted time that he could have spent looking for Sam. Grabbing his coat and keys he left the room, dangling the do not disturb sign on the door knob on his way out.

Sleep, unfortunately did not enter into the equation for Dean that night. It had been over twenty four hours since Sam disappeared and he was at his wits end. Having spent all his efforts yesterday searching around town he had reluctantly called the police, his dad was on his way back, but this was too big they needed more help. Two officers had just left ten minutes ago. After taking in the damage to the room that Dean had been unable to clear away, they had at first thought him a suspect only changing their minds after seeing the emotion that radiated from him. After some of the questions they'd asked though, he was beginning to think involving them was a bad idea, but if it helped get Sammy back he could handle the sixth degree. Hearing the roar of their dad's truck, Dean mentally prepared himself for the verbal bashing even before John stepped into the room.

Earlier...

Picking up his mobile, John listened to the voicemail message. "_Dad its Dean. Listen you need to come home, dad. Sam's missing. I'm sorry dad, it's all my fault. I... just come home, please."_ Turning to Caleb, John quickly explained to him what was going on and that he had to go. Starting the truck he pulled out into traffic dialing Dean's number at the same time. After three rings his eldest son answered, John anger overriding rationality didn't even let him get a word out before...

"What the hell is wrong with you? What the hell happened Dean? Where is your brother?"

"I'm sorry dad, he just went to the store, it was only five minutes away, he..."

"Where the hell were you? What the hell did you let him out of your sight for? I trusted you to look after him. He was your responsibility Dean and you lost him." John continued his rant, hearing the emotion in Dean's voice, but choosing in anger to ignore it. "I can't deal with you at the moment, I'll be back mid morning. You better pray he's okay." Clicking off the phone, John stepped on the gas harder.

Present

When John stepped into the room Dean was shocked at the anguish and despair that flowed from him. John had had time to think on the drive here and now wasn't the time for blame, plus he knew his eldest would be feeling guilty enough, so he did something he didn't normally do. Dean was even more shocked when he was pulled into a bone crushing hug.

"What happened son?" John asked when he finally released the boy.

Dean couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes, the unexpected show of love from his father more than his emotionally damaged mind could take.

"I'm sorry; I'm so very sorry dad. I shouldn't have let him go on his own, but it was only to the store and I thought he would be okay." Dean rushed out in between great big gulps of air. "He went to get sodas and a movie while I stayed at the court. When he didn't come back I went looking but he'd just disappeared. I looked all night dad I swear I did but I couldn't find him. The cops were just here, but I think they think I did something to Sam."

"It's okay Dean. We will find him." John's words left no room for arguing and also left no doubt the swift and deadly retribution that would occur if anyone had hurt his youngest son.

Sam lay curled on the mattress. His body still hurt all over, his fingers held protectively to his chest, his left eye swollen closed, his mind remembering the things that were done to him, remembering the things that were said. Was that really how his dad and Dean felt? He knew Dean resented him sometimes, but did he really resent him this much? And his dad? Sam knew he didn't live up to Dean in his dad's eyes, that he wasn't as good of a hunter, wasn't as good of a soldier, wasn't as good of a son, but did his dad hate him so much that he'd give him away? His thirteen year old, child's mind muddled by drugs, abuse and harsh words was beginning to think that maybe his family did hate him that much.

Sam's mind was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't hear the door open, only realizing someone was in the room with him when the mattress shifted behind him. He vainly tried to move his sore body away, but it was no use. Hands grasped his shoulders turning him to face his captor.

"No, please, please, no please, leave me alone. Please not again."

Soft sobbing was all that could be heard through the door of the room, in a normal looking house, on a normal looking street, in a normal looking suburban neighborhood.

T.B.C...

**A.N... Decided to call the woman Sherry, so in future chapters when you see that name that's who it is. Sorry to all Sherry's out there it's nothing personal. Please review if you have time, I do read them all and try to take in the comments. Thanks for reading, Peanut x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This fic does contain child abuse, but it's not graphic. If you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... Still owned by Kripkie, I'm just waiting patiently for him to get bored with them…**

**A.N... There's a bit more darkness again this chapter, so apologies to those if your offended by it. Have had trouble with the net, haven't been allowed to get on so I apologize for the delay in posting.**

Chapter 3. So close, yet so far.

Dean and John were lost; the heart of their small family was now shattered. Sam had been gone ten weeks now and the stress of TV appearances, police appeals, police questioning and newspaper interviews had taken their toll. John's normally dark hair was now peppered with grey. Dark circles and heavy bags now spoilt his once handsome face, which was now creased with worry lines. Dean hadn't fared much better; his eyes rivaled his dad's although his were also clouded with a deep sense of guilt. He'd lost weight, eating only because John forced him to, and his shoulders now slumped heavily, the weight of the world on them.

There was just no sign of Sam. They had pooled together and pulled out just about every favor they were owed, but nobody had seen the younger Winchester. Sleep had become a necessary evil, they both needed it but they both fought it. Every night was the same, terrible nightmares forced them awake where the viciousness of their minds played constant reminders of what could be happening to Sam. Today they were going door to door, canvassing people, showing photo's, asking more questions but expecting no answers. They had already tried the houses by the motel, school and store, now they were going further a field. It was a slim chance but it was all they had.

Taking a home each they started their quest, by mid morning they must have called at over fifty houses, showing the photo's and speaking to people in most of them, leaving details and a number at the ones that were out. Turning away from a house he'd had no luck at, Dean could see his dad across the street talking to the occupants of a small blue bungalow, Dean could tell from his fathers stance he was having no luck. Not wanting to dwell on their lack of success he started up the path of the next house. Pretty shrubs and flowers lined a neat lawn in front of the pristine white house. Stepping onto the porch, Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, ignoring it he pressed the buzzer. Hearing a dog barking and approaching footsteps he took a slight step back, the door opening to reveal a dark haired woman with glasses standing behind the screen.

"Can I help you?"

"I sure hope so ma'am. We're looking for my brother he's been missing for over two months and I was just wondering if I showed you a picture you might have seen him around, somewhere, possibly?"

"I can surely try sweety, but my husband and myself work out of town a lot so it's unlikely that I can help you, sorry".

"Could you just take a look, please."

"Sure honey, let me look." Dean handed over the most recent photo they had of Sam to the woman. It was taken at their last school before this one Sam looking proudly into the camera, dimples showing on his smiling face."Oh, I'm so sorry; he looks like a total sweetheart. Who could think of taking such a lovely child? I'm sorry to say though I haven't seen him around." The woman answered, passing the photo back.

"Are you sure? He's grown more since this picture; he's gaining height on me now." Dean tried again.

"No, no, I'm sure I definitely would have remembered him if I had seen him, I'm sorry."

"Okay, thanks, do you mind if I leave my number and some details just incase you maybe see him around?" Dean handed over one of the flyers before making his way back off the porch.

"Sure sweety, and believe me I'll call if I ever catch sight of him." The woman answered before closing the door.

Walking back down the path, Dean couldn't help the feeling of being watched, the hairs standing up once again on the back of his neck. Shuddering slightly, he put it down to the now colder weather and continued on to the next house.

Sam's days seemed to all join into one, he had no idea how long ago he had been taken and between the beatings, abuse, brainwashing and drugs he was forgetting who he was and where he had come from. Lying on the dirty mattress he was trying to urge his battered mind to remember events that had happened before he had ended up in this hell. Instead his thoughts took him back to a particularly brutal beating that had happened at the end of the first month.

"What is your name?" Graham had asked.

"Sam Winchester." A punch to the head brought stars to Sam's eyes.

"What is your name?"

"Sam Winchester." The punch was to the stomach this time.

"I can carry on all night boy. What. Is. Your. Name?" Graham spat out.

"Sam Winchester." His mending fingers took the beating this time being re-broken.

Sam learned that night that Graham did not lie; the beating had gone on all night only ending when Sam was covered in bruises and cuts and whispering apologies. Now Sam could barely remember his original name, it came to him only in the rare lucid moments that were becoming few and far between, answering to the name Burton, if Graham cared to ask. The beatings weren't the worst thing though; it wasn't if he had not been hurt before. The worst was the daily raping's, where either Sherry or Graham took turns using Sam, even worse was when they forced Sam to do equally disgusting things back.

Even the most vicious of beatings didn't stop them as Sam found out the day after the name beating. Sherry had come into the room early that day with water and painkillers, Sam was curled up on his side, his back to the door, clothed only in a dirty pair of boxers his other clothes taken away to stop him running away, not that he could have anyway the pain was too bad and the drugs made him disorientated and constantly tired.. Forcing the pills down an unresponsive Sam, Sherry had sat on the bed rubbing circles on his back. Feeling Sam cringe beneath her touch was seemingly like an arousal to her.

Coming back to the moment Sam forced himself to not think about that night anymore. That was the night Sam's mind turned in on it self, he shut down, he broke. There were more degrading things done since then but Sam was past caring, he welcomed the twice daily doses of drugs the couple gave him, he didn't eat, barely drank, stopped washing, when they allowed him too, thinking that the smell might possibly stop them. He had resigned himself to living in this place or even better dying in this place.

Sitting up he readied himself, he could hear footsteps, it was time for another dose. The door opened and Sam's hunger for a fix disappeared when it wasn't Sherry who appeared but Graham.

"You little piece of shit, how could you do this to us? And after we've treated you like our own child. You have been near that window haven't you? I'll make you pay for hurting your mother like that."

Shrank down into the littlest ball Sam had no idea what was going on, he hadn't been near the window, he hadn't upset anyone, he'd heard the doorbell ring earlier but that couldn't be it, what was the matter? Knowing the punishment would be worse if he spoke he kept quiet, but this just seemed to irritate Graham all the more.

"So you're not talking? I'll make you say something; I'll make sure you do not go near that window again." Graham rushed out before repeatedly slamming his heel down with force on Sam's left leg, the result was instantaneous, Sam screamed, the leg breaking under the vicious assault. It wasn't enough for Graham though, as Sam attempted to protect his leg he left his back and side unprotected to which Graham took advantage raining blow upon blow on the distressed child. Sam passed out but it still didn't stop him, only his wife coming tentatively in to the room eventually did.

Sam finally awoke, in pain and disorientated. He wished he had died when he realized he was naked, as were the couple, who were sandwiched either side of him, touching him in places he knew if he ever got out of there he'd never let anyone touch him again. Praying for one of his injuries to be so serious it would take him away from here, he closed his eyes and hoped he'd never open them again.

**A.N... Thanks to all who have read and reviewed I appreciate everyone's comments. Had a really quiet day in work yesterday, 9 hours and 1 customer, so chapters 4 and 5 are finished but I'm a nasty pasty so your not getting them yet, enjoy this chapter first. Oh and if there's anybody out there called Sherry or Graham Burton please except my apologies it's just a name that I came up with and I mean no offence. Peanut x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This story does contain child abuse, it's not graphic but it is there, if you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... Still not mine, but my birthday's coming up well in a couple of months; Kripkie might want to think about them for a present.**

**A.N... Thanks to all who have read and reviewed, I really do appreciate it. Now onto chapter 4.**

Chapter 4... Rescue, but will it be recovery?

John and Dean.

Days turned into nights, nights into weeks, and weeks into months. It had now been three months since Sam had disappeared. Nothing else mattered in their lives anymore but finding him, not the supernatural, not the hunt, not even the yellow eyed demon, they could take over the world for all the two older Winchesters cared. Sam was their main and only concern. Their days now consisted of searching, searching and more searching. The police had toned down their efforts, some of them even quietly suggesting that John and Dean be prepared for the recovery of a body, and not a live Sammy, both Winchesters refused to believe this though and doggedly continued their search. They had spent the past week going over places they had already tried, reminding folks that Sam was still missing. Having tried the more upscale places the previous two days they were trying around the school and store again today. Gathering up a batch of missing person flyers each they where heading out the door when Dean's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello is this Dean?" A stranger's voice spoke from the other end.

"Yes, who is this?" Dean replied.

"My name is Officer Vose; I found your number at a house where we found a young boy. We'd like you to come down and help our investigation by seeing if you can identify the child?" Hearing a strangled cry followed by the phone obviously being dropped, Officer Vose started shouting into his phone. "Dean, Dean please answer me." He tried this a few times before the phone was picked up and a gruffer voice rang in his ear.

"Who the hell is this? And what did you say to my boy?"

Officer Vose tried again." I'm sorry sir, as I explained to your son; we found his number in a house where we found a child. Now we need your son or yourself to come down to the hospital to try and identify the boy."

"Sammy, you found Sammy? Wait you said hospital right, he's alive?"

"Sir we don't know who the child is, which is the reason why I'm calling, but yes he is alive." Officer Vose answered.

"Oh, thank God. Dean he's alive. We will be right there."

Puppy dogs and prisoners.

Cheryl Evans had been an animal rescue worker for twelve years, in which time she had seen some horrifying sights, but the sight that she saw this cold December morning was something that would live with her forever. Responding to a call from one of the more affluent of the cities neighborhoods, she had spoken to one of the neighbors about concerns for a dog that looked to have been left in an obviously abandoned home. The neighbors confirmed that a u-haul had been spotted there two days ago, but nobody since, they had heard the dog wailing and could see it through the windows. Looking through the window herself, Cheryl could see the small beagle roaming from room to room. Unable to contact any owners she'd reported her findings and requested back up to enter. An officer she knew well turned up a short time later.

"Hey George, how are you today?"

"I'm fine Cheryl; don't think much of this cold weather though. What you got for me?" Officer Vose responded.

"Abandoned beagle, looks straight forward, I'll check the rest of the house though just to make sure there's nothing else. I just need you to get me in."

Getting in was easy enough, the dog seemingly friendly. Cheryl went about trying to coax the obviously malnourished beagle with meaty treats. It wasn't tempted. As she stepped towards it, he stepped back. Crooning words of encouragement, she stepped forward again, the dog shooting up the stairs, where it seemed to Cheryl it was almost daring her to come up. Taking up the dare she moved upstairs, the dog ran off. Reaching the top she could see the dog further down the hall sat outside the last door, tail wagging profusely. Walking down the hallway she spoke softly.

"What you up to boy?"

Seemingly in answer the dog looked longingly at the door. Allowing it self to be picked up when Cheryl reached him, he started to struggle when she turned to walk back downstairs. Nipping at her hands the dog jumped down, returning to its position by the door.

"You want something from out of that room?" Cheryl asked, immediately feeling stupid for talking to a dog. "Okay then."

Grasping the handle she pushed the door open, the small dog rushing into the room as she stood horrified on the threshold.

"George, you better come up here." She shouted as soon as she regained her senses.

"What's the matter?" George inquired as he reached the top of the stairs and could see Cheryl's face.

Cheryl could only point into the room she was stood outside. Arriving at her side George looked in. The dog had settled on a filthy mattress, nestled against the stomach of a naked, badly beaten boy. Hearing Cheryl lose her stomach contents, George quickly radioed for medical assistance and back up. Forcing himself forward, he made his way towards the child. As his hand touched the boys neck, he was relieved to both feel a pulse and get a reaction, although he was saddened the reaction was cringing and a feeble attempt to move away.

"Cheryl, take the dog, wait downstairs for the paramedics, I'll stay here." Looking around he spotted a ragged old towel, draping it softly over the child to allow him some dignity. "Its okay lad, if you can hear me my name is George, I'm a police officer, you don't have to be afraid of me, I'm here to help you." George whispered the words, whilst trying to assess the boy's injuries.

Multiple bruises of all different colors covered the child from head to toe. He was so thin the bones were clearly visible beneath his skin. The fingers of his left hand were twisted grotesquely in the wrong direction, needle marks could be seen running up his arms, his nose looked broken, possibly a cheekbone as well, and his right eye swelled shut, his left glassy and unfocused, blankly staring ahead and hinting of the pain he had been put through. His left leg was fractured so badly the bone could be seen poking through, the limb inflamed with infection, infection that could be felt in the heat radiating of the boy. Although he felt hot the boy was shaking uncontrollably, whether from fear, cold, fever or withdrawal George wasn't sure. Moving out of the way when the paramedics arrived, George found Cheryl talking to two fellow officers.

"How is he?"

"Doesn't look good, beaten badly, possible sexual abuse, malnourished and dehydrated. I'm going to ride with him to the hospital. You can take my statement there later."

About to follow the paramedics as they came down the stairs, his eye was caught by a piece of A4 paper partially hidden, sticking out from behind a unit. Plucking it out he stared at the picture of a smiling, mop haired boy, a missing persons description and a cell number written beneath. It couldn't be surely. Showing it to Cheryl he took out his phone and dialed the number.

Sammy's unwanted rescue.

Sam was in agony, chills racked his body, his leg was unbearable to touch, and he couldn't move his fingers and could barely see out of his one remaining open eye. He'd woken to his constant nightmare a short while ago, something nagging at his mind. Thinking it was about time for his morning fix he prepared himself for the latest round of suffering. Nobody came, his mind vaguely remembering nobody came last night either and he wasn't sure but he thought they hadn't been yesterday morning or the night before as well. A wave of panic competed with the relief that washed over him. Thoughts rushed through his mind "What's the matter with me, they've left me as well, they don't love me, nobody loves me, and I'm all alone again." Just as he was coming to terms with his situation and hoping his death would be quick, he heard the dog outside the door.

Hearing somebody speaking, he started crying at the thought his captors were back. The door opening had Sam switching off mentally, so much so he didn't realize the man stoking his hair wasn't Graham. Feelings of comfort started to enter his mind, but he'd been hurt too many times and he willed the feelings away, choosing instead to wallow in the furthest recesses of his mind. He had found someone there, the woman with the long blonde hair, who held him close and told him she loved him. Sam never felt himself being lifted onto the stretcher and carried away from his prison.

**A.N... Hope you like? Please let me know by clicking the button. Chapter 5 probably by Thursday, Peanut x**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This fic does have child abuse, but it wont be graphic. If you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... Not mine, don't own them, just playing with them for a little bit.**

**A.N... Was going to make you wait until Thursday for an update, but luckily for you all I'll be too busy tomorrow so you're getting the post a day early, so hope you enjoy and here's chapter 5.**

Chapter 5. Guilty feelings and dashed hopes.

Doors crashing open behind him had Officer Vose turning around. Two disheveled men had just entered the hospital, rushing up to the reception desk they had proceeded to bark out questions at the young girl behind.

"Where's my brother? Where's my son? They said he was here. I want to see my son now."

Walking towards them he noticed the strength and love that emanated from them, secretly hoping that this was the poor boys family and praying that that love and strength would be enough to help him, George spoke up.

"Excuse me, are you Dean?"

"Yeah, this is my dad, John. Have you found my brother? Have you found Sammy?" Dean's heart was thumping in his chest so hard he feared it would burst through.

"Possibly, we don't know. We need you to look and see if you can identify him."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" John shouted.

"I'm sorry but the child was severely beaten. We couldn't recognize him enough from the flyer we found." George replied, as a doctor and nurse approached. Looking straight at the officer the doctor spoke.

"Officer, are the relatives here yet?" George pointed at Dean and John.

"My name is Dr. Walsh. We really need to rush the child to surgery, he's being prepped as we speak so I can't allow you to see him, but does he have any distinguishing marks or scars that would help identify him?" He asked.

Dean answered quickly. "He had his appendix out and he broke his elbow, both of which he has scars for. He also has a birthmark at the top of his left leg."

"Nurse, go and check please." Dr. Walsh stated. The nurse rushed off leaving the four men in an awkward silence, she was back within minutes, her quiet nod sending Dean crashing to the floor.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to rush. Does your son, Sam right? Does Sam have any allergies and do you know his blood type?"

John answered this time. "No allergies and type O."

"Again I'm really sorry; I need to get prepped also. I'll come see you after the surgery." The doctor hurriedly spoke before leaving.

John turned to his son. "C'mon Dean, Sam will be okay, we have to be strong for him now." John looked at the officer and was saddened when the man wouldn't look him in the eye. "What the matter? What aren't you telling us?"

"Look as I said your son was severely beaten." George didn't know how to tell the rest. Taking a deep breath, he forced the words out. "But we also suspect your son, brother, has been sexually assaulted. Obviously I'm not a doctor so we wont be sure until he's been thoroughly examined." George's words were too much for Dean staggering to his feet he rushed from the hospital.

"But you don't know for sure?" John asked hopefully, rubbing his hands wearily across his face. Not wanting to give false hope George stayed quiet.

Hours passed and there was no word from the doctors. Dean had returned but wouldn't speak or even look at his father, or the police officer who had refused to leave. John was lightly sleeping, Dean just staring into space when Dr. Walsh finally returned.

"If you would care to follow me, I think it would be best if we talk in private. Officer I'll be with you shortly." He quickly acknowledged George before leading the two Winchesters into a private waiting room, waiting for them both to sit down before starting." Firstly Sam made it through the surgery fine, he's resting and sedated now, his condition is stable. Once we've talked I'll have a nurse come and take you up to him."

"What's wrong with him? What was the surgery for?" John couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know how much you've been told." Seeing the blank look on John and Dean's faces, he knew he had the hard task of telling them everything. "Sam came in to us severely beaten, he has several fractures to the face namely his nose and both cheekbones, his right eye is swollen shut and until it lessons we won't know for sure if there's any damage to the sight. His body is covered in bruises, judging by the color, they appear to be of various ages, there are also wounds we believe to have been caused be cigarette burns, and burns around his wrists and ankles that would suggest he was tied up at some stage, probably with rope."

Looking at the doctor both men knew there was worst to come.

"There is swelling and bruising of the spine which at the moment we're not overly concerned about, also 4 broken ribs, again these don't concern us. We were concerned about stomach damage due to the amount of bruising but tests have come back clear. The fingers on his left hand have been broken; it appears that they were mending but re-broken. The surgery to repair them went well, and with time and physical therapy he should retain full movement of them. Sam's left leg was a cause for concern, the break wasn't a clean one and with it being left untreated it has become infected rather badly. We've re-broken and set it using metal pins, because of the extent of the infection and open wound the leg is being help by a frame rather than in a cast for the time being. Again with time it should heal to its normal strength, although Sam might have a slight limp from now on. Your son is severely malnourished and dehydrated, his body has lost approximately half its weight, and this is being treated via an I.V. He has a fever of a 103.9, this is also being treated by I.V. We will be keeping a close eye on this and hopefully it should start to drop later today."

Hearing the doctor stop talking, John breathed out a sigh of relief only to have his next breath catch in his throat as the doctor resumed his assessment.

"Unfortunately tests prove that there has been sexual abuse, most likely repeatedly. When Sam is more aware, we will assign him a counselor. We've tested him for STD's and aids, the STD's came back clear, the results for the aids have been rushed and should be back within the week. He has also been repeatedly shot with drugs, with what we don't know yet, results should be back by tomorrow." The doctor paused to look at both men, the father stony faced his emotions deeply hidden, the brother the exact opposite, pain, anguish and what the doctor thought was a hint of guilt, written all over his face." It's going to be an extremely long road to recovery. Sam is going to need all your help, support and especially your love to get him through this, and I'm sorry to say but even that might not be enough." Both men looked up at this. "I won't beat around the bush. It's all down to Sam if he doesn't want the help, if he doesn't want to get better, then there's not a great deal any of us can do. You have to persuade Sam that there's still lots to live for, that there's still good in this world, that he's still loved and wanted and that's going to be the hardest step. I'm sorry; I'll leave you alone for a few minutes. Melanie, Sam's nurse will come get you so you can go up and see him. Please be aware that your son doesn't look good, he is heavily sedated to help his body recover, so he wont be awake any time soon, he's also in soft restraints, both to stop him hurting himself and others, he became quite distressed before surgery, yet another reason for the sedative. I need to go talk to the officer but if you have any questions, please feel free to have me paged day or night, I've requested to be informed of any changes in Sam's recovery, so I'll always be available." Shaking both men's hands the doctor left the small family of the child. The child that had touched the man's heart, and who he prayed had the strength to recover.

John looked at his eldest son once the doctor had left, although the words the doctor had said had hurt him, Dean had been devastated by them. One look at his son's face told him the guilt Dean had been feeling had now multiplied ten fold.

"Son, I know you feel responsible and guilty, but you shouldn't. Sam was old enough to go on his own." John didn't get to finish as Dean's anger bubbled over.

"You have know idea how I'm feeling, and don't for one minute start blaming Sammy. He was my responsibility, I was supposed to look after him, It was my only job. I should have gone with him. I let him be taken because I wanted to play a stupid game. I put a game before my brother, dad. Sam was taken and used as a toy, as a punching bag, for someone's perverted pleasure. He was taken on my watch, dad. So tell me how could you possibly know how I'm feeling?"

Further debate was cut short when Sam's nurse came in.

"Hi, I'm Melanie; I'll be Sam's night time nurse. If you'd like to follow me, I'll take you up to his room."

Both men got up and slowly followed the nurse from the room, both unsure they wanted to see what had become of the youngest Winchester, while at the same time eager to see the boy who was the heart and soul of their family. Both secretly hoping that the heart wasn't too broken to be fixed.

**A.N... This chapter felt like a bit of a filler in to me, although I think it's one of my better chapters, but what do you think? Let me know. And don't worry Sammy's back next chapter when the road to recovery begins. As always thanks for reading and reviewing, Peanut x**


	6. Chapter 6

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This fic does contain child abuse, but it wont be graphic, if you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... Not mine and I'm beginning to think they never will be.**

**A.N... Thanks to all reviewers, both the old ones and the new. I really do appreciate each and everyone. **

Chapter 6. Breakdowns.

The walk to the room seemed to take an eternity. Reaching a nurses station, Melanie excused herself, telling them Sam was in room 218, the last door on the left. Arriving at the room Dean stopped. He couldn't do it, he couldn't go in. How could he go in and comfort Sam, knowing it was all his fault. Stepping back he looked at his father for understanding.

"It's okay son, whenever you're ready." John reassured.

Taking a deep breath John opened the door. The room held two beds, one empty; the other held what to John looked like a victim of a car accident. The poor child's face was a mess. "I guess Sam's not here yet". John thought out loud. His eyes glanced once more over the other occupant of the room, before they widened in horror after catching the name written above the bed.

"Sammy?"

A lone tear trickled from each eye and fell over John's rugged cheeks, as he took the final steps to the side of the bed that held his youngest child, the child that he had been unable to recognize.

"Oh God Sammy. I'm so sorry". Came a voice from behind him, as Dean found the courage to finally enter.

Standing either side of Sam, the two older Winchesters didn't know what to do. If they stroked his hair, or held his hand, would it hurt him all the more? Because it seemed to them that there wasn't a single piece of Sam that wasn't bruised, anywhere. Sam lay still and small on the hospital bed, his face half hidden by his extra long hair, his nose covered with a cast. His left leg was raised moderately, held in a contraption that looked to be more torturing, than helping. His left hand swathed in splints and bandages. I.V's fed nutrients, antibiotics and pain medication through a vein in his right hand, and John and Dean could both see the failed attempts to find a suitable one and the scabbed over track marks the bastards who had taken him had done.

Even beneath the sheets and hospital gown they could see just how much weight Sam had actually lost. Always a tall and gangly child for his age, he now looked positively skeletal, his bones practically fighting to break free from his skins confines. Finally, John taking Sam's uninjured right hand, and being careful of the I.V's, and Dean stroking his hair, they sat, neither one talking just willing Sam to make it through.

It had been a week since Sam had been brought in. A week in which the doctor had kept him sedated. A week of ups and downs. Sam's fever had looked to have been on the way down only for it to spike viciously back up, where it had stayed until yesterday morning. His eye had started to reduced in size, but still not enough for tests to be carried out, his leg was healing slowly, as was his hand. The restraints had been removed at John's insistence; he just couldn't stand them anymore. But the best news so far had arrived yesterday, the results of the aids test had come back and both Winchesters had heaved a sigh of relief when the doctor had told them. Negative.

Dr. Walsh had just left after talking to Dean; today they were going to start weaning Sam off the sedatives and allow him to wake up. Dean sat in his usual chair, just stroking his brother's hair. He hadn't spoken to Sam in the seven days he had been there. Saving all his words for when his brother finally woke. This was not the time for Winchester pride, it wasn't something that they could brush over as usual, they were going to have to discuss this and so Dean stayed quiet waiting the moment he knew would eventually arrive.

Looking away from Sam for a moment, Dean's eye was caught by an image on the TV, which was playing with the sound low. A news report was repeating an interview with one of the officers on Sam's case. Neither Winchester had taken much interest of the coverage so far, but Dean was interested now. He wasn't so much interested in what was being said, his attention was on what was behind the officer. Feeling nauseous he bolted for the bathroom, thoughts raging through his head.

"How could you have been so stupid? You knew there was something off about that house, you felt it, but you chose to ignore it. You're supposed to be a hunter, and you ignored your own gut feelings. And, to make matters worse you returned to the place again, and you still ignored the feelings you were getting. You could have saved Sammy sooner, he was right there and you let him go again.'

Losing the battle with his stomach he heaved the meager contents into the toilet, still trying to release more when there was nothing left to lose. Tears streaming down his face, he dropped to the floor, knees hugging his chest, his arms covering his head.

Officer Vose had refused to give up on this case. For some unknown reason Sam Winchester had left an impression on the officer's heart. When he wasn't working he made sure to call at the hospital to check on Sam, and the two other Winchesters, which was why when he entered today a look of shock registered on his face at finding Sam alone. He had been coming to visit everyday and this would be the first time that either John or Dean hadn't been there. Hell they guarded Sam almost like he was the king of England, barking at anyone they didn't know, demanding to know what each and every new drug or test was for, so to find him alone had George worried. Knowing it should be Dean that was on guard duty, George stepped further into the room. Checking the small bathroom, his heart sank at the sight that greeted him.

"Hey Dean. C'mon lad. You can't let Sammy see you like this and you know they expect him to wake up soon."

"I could've saved him, George. I was there twice. I could have got to him sooner. I could have got the bastards that took him, that did this, but I ignored it." Dean cried out between sobs.

"Ignored what? I don't understand."

"I knew there was something off about that house. I felt it but I ignored it and Sammy got hurt all the more. I felt my brother, but it looked so normal so I ignored how I was feeling. How could I do that to him? I could have saved him two weeks ago, how could I have just left him there?"

Finally understanding, George attempted words of comfort.

"You couldn't have known for sure, Dean. It's not your fault and even if you had known, look what they did to Sam, they would have just done the same to you."

"I don't care; at least Sam would have been safe. He wouldn't have been alone, I would have been there. I could've protected him."

"Dean none of this is your fault, you have to stop blaming yourself. It won't do any good and it certainly won't help Sam." George paused at this point. "Shit, Dean. I'm sorry we just thought that the Burton's had picked up the missing persons flyer. It didn't enter our heads that you had been there. This could be our first break; we only have sketchy descriptions so far. Do you think you could describe who you saw?" Dean nodded in answer before George continued. "I'll send somebody over. Dean you have to think positively. If you hadn't have gone back, they could still be at that house, Sam with them. You have to believe, and from what you've said it fits, that they left because you refused to give up on your brother. Now c'mon, get up and get back in that room, the little guy shouldn't be waking up alone."

Knowing that George was right, Sam shouldn't wake up alone and he shouldn't see him like this, Dean got unsteadily to his feet. Trudging back into the room, Dean knew George was wrong about one thing though. He could have saved Sam; he should have saved Sam, hell he shouldn't have let him go in the first place. Sitting back down and resuming to stroke his younger brother's hair, Dean wondered for the first time if he had the strength enough to help Sammy recover. How could he help when it was all his fault to begin with?

Dean was due back from the motel, and John just finishing a lukewarm cup of coffee, when Sam first started to stir. Fighting his way through the layers of consciousness, his mind was a peaceful blank slate until the pain hit, and the memories came flooding back sending tears to his eyes where they flowed freely from behind his closed lids. Refusing to open his eyes and find him self still on the filthy mattress in that room, he lay there and allowed his pain, frustration and anguish be released.

His brain registered after a few minutes that something was different, the smell was different, he felt different, he felt warm and clean, and although he was in pain he felt oddly safe. He was just about to open his eyes and take a look, when a shadow fell across his face blocking out the heat of the light he could feel. The touch of somebody stroking his hair had all Sam's safe feelings crashing back, and him cringing, and in terror in seconds. Opening his eyes, his mind couldn't register who the person was; just that he was hovering dangerously close. Still thinking that he was in his permanent nightmare, Sam started to sob inconsolably, gulping down breath's he pleaded to be left alone, all the while trying to get away from the unwanted touching. Strong hands gripping his shoulders had Sam screaming and struggling all the more, so much so he was in danger of falling of the bed, but he wasn't aware and didn't care, he just had to get away.

"I can't do this anymore. Why am I being punished? What did I do wrong? Please don't do this again; I don't want to live like this. Please just let me go, please just kill me now, just let me die."

John had just drained the last of his coffee, placing the cup in the trash he happened to glance at his youngest boy, instantly saddened when he caught sight of the tears that coursed down his bruised and battered cheeks.

"Hey, Sammy. Its okay, you're safe now. Dad's here and Dean will be soon." John whispered, whilst stroking his baby's hair.

Seeing the tears increase he leaned over his child. The result was instant, Sam started to struggle. Wanting nothing more than to comfort him and stop him from hurting himself John gripped his shoulders, the reaction was like a match to a flame. Sam cried harder, he started thrashing about and screaming, nearly falling off the bed, all the while crying words of distress that broke the older man's heart. Knowing he needed help he pushed repeatedly at the call button, whilst trying to keep Sam from falling. Nurses rushed into the room.

"What happened?" Melanie asked.

"He woke up. He was crying. He started to panic. I just tried to stop him hurting himself. I should have known it would set him off. I'm sorry Sammy, I'm so sorry." The last words almost shouted, hoping his son could hear them.

"Page Dr. Walsh, now. Mr. Winchester you're going to have to wait outside, I'll come and find you when we have got Sam settled."

Nodding in resignation, John left the room and started walking aimlessly through the hospital corridors. Turning a corner, he bumped into someone but didn't care. It was only when the other person tugged on his shirt and spoke that he finally looked up. That was all it took, one look into his Dean's eyes had the normally stoic, senior Winchester crying profusely into the arms of his oldest son.

Sam was floating. His mind, controlled by drugs, shutting down once again. Just on the verge of consciousness he became aware of a smell. A smell he recognized, but hadn't smelt in a while. A smell he associated with safety. A smell of Pears soap and old leather. Feeling reassurance for the first time, he welcomed the darkness that beckoned.

**A.N... Not going to tell you when I'm going to post in future as every time I do something comes up and I end up posting earlier. Hope you like this chapter and things aren't going too slow for you, catch you after chapter 7. Oh and I don't know if Pears soap is known anywhere other than England but it is the best smell ever, always reminds me of my childhood. Peanut x**


	7. Chapter 7

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This story does contain child abuse, it's not graphic. If you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... Nope not mine just loaned them for today.**

**A.N... This chapter has been a right pain in the arse. It just would not write, right. It's been chopped and changed so many times, I very nearly stopped writing the story. But I persisted with it and I hope it has turned out okay.**

Chapter 7. Good and bad days.

Dean didn't know what to do. It had been a month since he had returned to Sam's room, after comforting their dad, to find his brother sedated again. Still trying to fight and escape the hands he thought were trying to hurt him, Sam only seeming to calm down when Dean removed his jacket and placed it gently over his younger sibling, where he seemed to burrow into the leather. Since then things had only gotten worse. Everyday was a bad day. Sam had withdrawn into himself even more. He refused to eat. The doctor, having no choice, had inserted a feeding tube. When awake he would stare blankly into space, crying constantly, refusing to acknowledge anyone, never speaking, not even to Dean, and certainly not to the police.

There was absolutely no touching, the hospital staff finding out the hard way the day after dad's breakdown when they had gone to check Sam's wounds. One touch and Sam had ignited, lashing out viciously and with force, breaking an orderlies nose and blackening a nurses eye before he was brought under control, sedated and in restraints once again. Dean had refused to let anyone touch Sam since, knowing he would hate it. So everyday Dean would clean his injuries and wash his brother gently. Some days Sam was compliant, others he fought tooth and nail.

The worst day for Dean had happened about two weeks ago. Sam's leg had been taken out of the savage looking frame and casted. John was at the motel, Dean talking to Dr. Walsh, when Sam waking up alone and panic stricken, his restraints forgotten to be put back, had somehow managed to remove himself from the I.V's and tubes that fed him and hobbled undetected from the room. By the time Dean found him, crouched uncomfortably between a sink and toilet in one of the floors public bathrooms, Sam had managed a half hearted attempt to take his own life. Breaking open a razor he had found, he'd sliced across his left wrist, his broken fingers not allowing him to do the other wrist. Why he stopped Dean neither knew nor cared, but he had and since then the restraints were kept on at all times and Sam placed on a suicide watch.

The days since had turned into one big roundabout. They woke up, stayed with Sam, went to bed. That was until yesterday. Yesterday the doctors had decided they could do no more for Sam in this hospital, they needed the room and Sam was unwilling to be helped, unless there was improvement by the weekend they were going to have him committed. So Dean was torn. There was absolutely no way he was having Sam committed, but did he have the strength within himself to play the hard man with his emotionally disturbed brother. Thinking it over he realized he had no choice.

"Sammy. Please Sam you have to talk to me, talk to dad." Getting no response he carried on. "Please Sam. They want to take you away and I can't allow them to do that. So please, I'm begging you, please help me out here. Talk to me, if you don't think you can do that, just acknowledge me, and attempt to eat something. Do anything. I lost you once brother. I will not lose you again. I can't lose you again. You're my brother and I love you so very much. I'd die if you leave me again."

Caught up in his words and tears falling freely down his face, Dean didn't realize there was a pair of brown eyes gradually beginning to focus on him, tears streaming from them also.

"Sam for the whole three months you were gone I refused to give up. I knew you were still out there. My life, dad's life revolved around getting you back, nothing else mattered but you. You're our life Sam, what we live each day for, we don't exist without you. We need you to get better. It's going to be hard Sam, we know that, but we will be with you all the way no matter what. Through the good days and the bad we will be with you, I promise. Just help me out here and please don't give up."

A gentle touch on his hand had Dean looking up. Attempting to wipe the tears away, he looked into his brothers wet eyes. Eyes that for the first time had a spark, it wasn't the spark that had teenagers and grown women unable to refuse anything the boy asked, but it was a spark just the same and Dean was hopeful.

"I'm sorry." Sam croaked out, his voice hoarse from not being used.

Dean was taken aback. "Sorry for what? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about Sam. You did nothing wrong. Those bastards will be the ones to be sorry when we get our hands on them. You, brother, are the victim. Don't you be apologizing for nothing."

"I'm sorry." Was all Sam could muster again, before tears fell more fiercely from his eyes.

Taking in his brother's distress, Dean reacted instinctively. "Come here." He reassuringly spoke, before removing the restraints and taking Sam into a hug.

Sam cringed inwardly and fought against his natural urge to pull away, before allowing himself to collapse into the gesture, the brother's staying that way for a long time, each taking much needed comfort from the embrace. Dean broke the contact first. Gently cupping his brother's face, he wiped at the tears that still fell down.

"You okay?" A shrug from Sam. "You need anything?" A shake of the head. "You want to talk?" Another shake of the head. Looking more closely at his brother, Dean could tell that he was exhausted. Their little bonding session had completely wasted him. "Okay, I'm gonna talk to the doctor, see if I can get him to postpone the move for now. I'm gonna leave the restraints off. Will you be okay?" Getting a nod from Sam, Dean got up. "Alright you get some rest, dad should be here soon, I'll just be outside till then, I promise."

Heading for the door, Dean stole a quick glance back at Sam. Seeing his brother's eyes closed and a look of peace on his face, the first in a long time, Dean thought him to be asleep, just as he was pulling on the door though he heard Sam's soft raspy voice.

"Happy birthday, Dean."

Dean turned back a look of surprise registering on his face, but Sam really was asleep this time. Stepping through the door tears fell once more, but this time they were happy tears.

John turned up as Dean was talking to Dr. Walsh. After getting reassurance that Sam wouldn't be moved for another week, so long as he improved, he told his dad what had transpired minutes earlier.

"That's a good sign, son. He's heading in the right direction." John replied to the much needed good news.

"Let's hope so, dad. But I don't think it's over by a long way yet. Listen I need to go get some food for Sammy to try. Will you be okay with him for a while?" Dean inquired.

John had been taking the night shifts at the hospital, since Sam had first woken up, not knowing how to respond to his youngest son's reactions. "Yeah sure, he's asleep right?"

"Yeah, he got tired real easy and dropped straight off. If he awakes just don't rush anything. You'll both be okay; I shouldn't be longer than an hour."

Leaving the hospital, Dean got into the Impala. Gunning the engine he headed for the place he had wanted to go to ever since he'd seen the news report. He had something to do and tonight, his 18th birthday he was gonna do it. Arriving at his destination he quickly got out, retrieving two items off the back seat. Making quick work of the lock, he made his way inside, moving upstairs he found the room. The mattress was no longer there, it had long since been taken away for evidence. Pale street light through the window enabled Dean to see stains on the floorboards. Sam's blood.

Fighting the need to get out of there, Dean poured the contents of one of the containers onto the floor and walls, making it trail on the carpet outside and down the stairs. Using the other container he doused the kitchen cabinets and living room carpet, before taking out his lighter and flicking it on. Sitting on the Impala's hood he watched as Sammy's prison went up in flames.

Returning to Sam's room he was surprised to see him awake, his feeding tube and restraints had been removed, John attempting small talk, Sam unresponsive, but at least not staring blankly as he had been earlier. The relief on both faces at seeing Dean was almost comical.

"I'm just going for coffee." John rushed out, whilst practically bolting from the room.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Dean took over his empty seat, his amusement dying when Sam softly spoke.

"Dad hates me. He's disgusted with me. He can't even bare to be near me."

"Sammy, that's not true. You know dad, if he can't shoot it or blow it up, he doesn't know how to deal with it. But that doesn't mean he's disgusted by you or that he doesn't love you." Dean paused to get something out of the bag he had brought back. "Hey you hungry? I brought you Fruit Loops." Getting no response he tried again. "Come on Sam, please. Just a couple of mouthfuls." Getting a slight nod this time Dean broke into the first smile in a very long time. "I'll be right back; I just have to get a bowl."

Sam had done well, eating half the small bowl of Fruit Loops and milk before he had began to tire yet again. Taking the bowl off his brother, Dean had fixed his jacket more snugly around him, Sam had refused to give it back, and allowed him to go back to sleep. He'd been that way for an hour when John came back.

"Dean, the police are here they want to talk to us."

"Bring them in here. Sam's asleep and I don't want to leave him." Dean replied calmly, although his insides were churning. Surely they hadn't found any evidence to link him to the house fire so soon?

He didn't have to wait long to find out as John came back, this time with George and another officer close behind.

"Hey Dean. I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I thought you should hear this from me before the papers and news gets a hold of it."

Dean plastered a carefree look on his face. "Shit they know. They know I set fire to the house." Kept going through his head. John stood in his usual stoic silence.

George continued. "We've found the Burton's. They're in custody as we speak."

**A.N... Well what do you think? Hope you weren't too disappointed. Now then I have ideas how to deal with the Burton's both ways, but tell me which way you hope I go. Winchester revenge or classic courts? Catch you after chapter 8 and remember hit the button, please, Peanut x**


	8. Chapter 8

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This story does contain child abuse, but it wont be graphic. If you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer... Still not mine but I have a master plan, will let you know how it turns out!**

**A.N ...It's official I made it to the Guinness book of records for having the most boring job at times, but you all should be happy cause here's chapter 8, enjoy. Dedicated to Captain Jack,(redwinged blackbird, to everyone else) for giving me some right laughs this past couple of days. Oh, and I managed to do it in time too, Happy Birthday Jared x.**

Chapter 8. A decision to make.

"We've found the Burton's; they're in custody as we speak."

A pin could have dropped and been heard in the room, it went that quiet after George's words were spoken. Both Winchesters had gone a deathly pale, a total look of surprise on their faces.

"John, Dean did you hear what I just told you?"

"Yeah. Yeah." John finally answered. "It's just a shock, that's all. Where are they?"

"I'm sorry; I'm not at liberty to give you that information." Seeing John's ferocious stare, he added quickly. "I'm sorry but I can't risk my job."

Feeling uncontrollable rage John turned away. Lashing out with his fist he struck the wall. "My son was brutalized by those bastards and you're worried about your job. I will find out where they are and when I do that's when you should worry about your job."

"John, please don't say anymore. I realize you're angry and upset, but you are liable to get yourself arrested. You have to think about Sam, please."

"I am thinking about Sammy." John shouted out, but his anger was simmering.

Minutes past before George felt he could talk again without gaining the eldest Winchesters wrath. "Listen guys. We are sorry but we really need to get a statement from Sam. We really can't wait any longer."

Dean had been quiet up till that point." No way, absolutely not, not yet anyway. He just spoke to me for the first time today and I will not risk him having a setback by letting you interrogate him. There most be enough evidence to put them away without Sam's testimony?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Dean, we really need Sam. Without him I believe it wont even make it to the courts. They have powerful connections and a lot of money; they will find a way to get out of this. Please help us. Get Sam to talk to us." George tried again.

"I'll try but not now. I'll talk to him later." Dean backed down.

"Okay if that's the best you can do, I'll take it. We'll wait in the hall until you've had a chance to talk to him."

After George and the other officer had left, Dean and John sat quietly, until John felt the need to speak.

"We have to get Sam to talk."

"I know that dad, but I really don't think he will."

"Then you have to convince him. Do anything to get him to."

Dean glanced at his father, a horrified expression written on his face. "I can't believe you just said that, in fact if that's how you feel, I think it would be more beneficial to Sam if you left. He already thinks you hate him, despise him, just go."

John felt terrible, he really didn't mean what he had just said, but he was angry and frustrated and hurt and hell he really wanted to kill something. "Dean, I'm sorry. I never meant what I said, but we can't just let them get away with this."

"And we won't, but I will not let Sam get hurt again. I promised him I wouldn't and there is nothing in this world that will make me break that promise."

Dean was watching a re-run of Magnum P.I when Sam woke again. Turning off the TV he readied himself for the hard task ahead. Not knowing how Sam would be after his sleep he stayed a comfortable distance away and allowed his brothers eyes to find him before he spoke.

"Hey Sammy. You feeling okay, I mean does anything hurt? Do you need anything?" His sentences rushed and mixing together as one as his nervousness heightened.

"What's the matter? Are you leaving me? Your leaving me aren't you?" Sam had instantly picked up on Dean's nerves, his mind quickly assuming that Dean had had enough, that he was going and he'd be left on his own again. Agitation and fear coursed through his body, he began to shake uncontrollably, tears filling his eyes once more.

"Hey hey. Its okay I'm not going anywhere. Sam please calm down, I swear to you I'm not leaving, I promised remember?" Dean tried to reassure his brother, all the while stroking his hand that he had grasped when he first noticed Sam's distress.

"Then why are you nervous? Has dad left? Dad's left me hasn't he?"

"No Sam, dad's just gone back to the motel. God Sam this is so hard. Sam they, shit I can't do this. Sam the police they found. They found the Burton's, Sam."

Sam seemed to deflate. His mind flooded with memories he tried hard everyday to forget. His water filled eyes now spilled over. Fighting against Dean, who had held on tighter at the first sign of Sam's increasing discomfort, he cried out. "No, no I can't go back. Please don't make me go back. I promise I'll be good, please, please don't send me back, please."

Dean was finding it hard not to cry along with his brother, at the fearful words coming from him. Just what the hell had been said to Sam to make him think this way? "Ssshh, Ssshh, Sammy. You're not going anywhere, you're stuck with me." He repeated over and over. "But Sam the police need you to tell them what happened. They think the Burton's will get away with it if you don't."

"I can't Dean. I can't. I don't want to. Please don't make me remember it. I can't tell them, I can't even tell you what happened never mind them. Please don't make me."

"Hey, Ssshh Sam. I wont, I wont." I won't make you talk yet, but you'll have to talk to me soon, Dean thought to him self.

Comforting Sam until he fell into a restless sleep, Dean left the room to find George. They were easy to find, both officers resting uneasily in the hard plastic chairs. John with them, he'd been unable to force himself to leave.

"Hey dad, guy's." The three awoke immediately. "I'm sorry George, he won't do it."

Sighing in a mix of frustration and anger, George spoke up. "Dean you have to try and make him. You do realize that they will get out. They'll be free to do to other kids what they did to Sam. The next one might not be so lucky. Sam can stop that, he has to stop that. Sam has to talk, please try again."

"Listen I'm sorry, but it isn't going to happen. He will not talk."

"This is just great, fantastic." George stopped himself before continuing. "I'm sorry. I'm not mad at Sam, hell I even understand him. It's just that I hate the fact that they will get away with it, you know?"

Dean nodded in understanding. "I know, but our main priority is Sam and what's best for him. If he doesn't want to talk, I'm not going to force him."

George was going to try appealing again, but a scream of anguish from down the hall had both Winchesters bolting back to Sam's room.

Sam had woken to find himself back in the room, back on his filthy mattress, back with the Burton's. This was wrong, Dean was here, he'd seen him, or was it Dean? Was Dean just part of a vivid dream. Sam was unsure. The door opened and Sam's nightmare became real. He was instantly fearful as the figures of Sherry and Graham entered. "Your not real, your not here." Sam tried to move but his body wouldn't co-operate.

Looking down he saw why. He wasn't dreaming the Burton's, he'd been dreaming Dean. He was naked again, his leg still uncasted, the bone still sticking through his skin, his fingers still stuck at awkward angles. "No, I'm not here, I'm safe with Dean. Please I have to be safe with Dean." The Burton's just smiled maliciously as they moved towards a frightened Sam. As hands roamed over his body, Sam started fighting; he couldn't go through this again. Hands touching beneath his torn boxers had Sammy screaming. "No, please not again, please. Noooooo".

Dean was the first to get back to the room, rushing to Sam's bedside he caught his brother as he was about to tumble from the bed. Grabbing his shoulders he attempted to wake him.

"Sammy, Sammy, come on wake up, I'm here, wake up."

It seemed like an eternity before Sam finally started to wake, fighting against the hands that held him until his sense of smell registered Dean. Thrusting up, catching Dean by surprise, he buried his head in his older brother's chest, shaking and sobbing profusely.

"I'm sorry, George and this is final. Sam won't be giving a statement."

The moon was full and bright in the sky, the stars out in force, when John Winchester left his two sleeping sons and exited the room. Taking out his cell, and choosing to ignore hospital policy, there was nobody around to hear the one sided conversation anyway, he dialed a number from memory. It was picked up after three rings.

"Hey Joshua."

"Yeah, I'm good, Dean too."

"Listen I need two more favors. I know that we used a lot last time but this is important."

"No Sammy's not doing too well, but he will be soon."

"Yeah, I'll tell him."

"What do we need? Sam won't talk, if they get out, we'll need somewhere safe to go. A place that can't be found, somewhere Sam can recover. Somewhere their money and friends can't find him."

"Yeah, that should do. Thanks Joshua."

"The other favor. Round up Caleb and Bobby; leave Jim out of this for now. I need Intel. I want to know where they're being kept. Where they're most likely to go if released. The first chance you get, I want them captured and held somewhere near to where we are going, until I can get to you."

"No, if they get bashed around it doesn't matter. Just make sure they're alive when I reach you."

"Yeah, that's right we'll deal out our own form of justice. Hunter style."

**A.N . . . . . I know you want justice served, it's coming I promise, next chapter. Think there's probably going to be two more chapters maybe three, so we're nearly at the end. Thanks to all who reviewed, and to those who just read thanks too, Peanut x**


	9. Chapter 9

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary . . . . . Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean's 17. Rated T. This story does contain child abuse, but it wont be graphic. If you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer . . . . . . Me thinks Captain Jack has pilfered them and stole them away on her pirate ship, either that or Kripkie is hiding them from me, I own nothing.**

**A. N . . . . . I have to warn you , there's is some more bad language and mentions of Sammy's rapes in this chapter. This is also quite a long chapter for me, so grab yourself a coffee(yuck) or tea, get a bar of choccie, put your feet up, sit back, relax and enjoy chapter 9.**

Chapter 9. Winchester justice.

John, after ending the call, silently returned to the room. He wasn't surprised when Dean spoke up.

"Who was you talking to?" He'd heard his father leave the room and knew he'd called someone; he could hear John's voice through the walls but couldn't make out the words.

"Joshua, I asked him to pull some more favors."

"Why? What are you thinking?"

"Dean, we both know they will get off, their kind always do. If that's the case I don't think Sam will be safe here, we won't be able to protect him here. I've asked Joshua to find us a place, somewhere off the map, somewhere safe for Sam to recover and start to move on."

"Dad, he's not ready to leave, or well enough to move yet."

"I know that Dean, but do you really think you can protect him to the best of your abilities here? Do you want to take a chance that they find him? No, when the time comes we will have to go."

Sighing in resignation Dean acquiesced. "Okay, your right he's not protected enough here. Where are we going?"

"Joshua thinks Caleb has a cabin off the beaten track that we can use."

Glancing at John, Dean knew there was more he wasn't telling. "What else did you talk about?"

John had wanted to keep Dean out of the next part, he knew that Dean would want in but that would mean taking Sam also, and that was not an option. Reluctantly he told Dean the rest of the conversation. "I've asked Joshua to get Caleb and Bobby. Find out where those 'things' are. Find out where they're most likely to go if they get released. They're going to find them, take them and hold them until I get there. I can't let them get away with what they did, I won't let them get away with it. I swear on Sam. They will hurt!"

"What are we, and I do mean we going to do with them?"

"Dean, you will not be involved. You will have to stay with Sam. You know he can't be left alone."

Dean was torn. He knew his dad was right. Sam couldn't be left alone yet, but he really needed to be a part of this. "Dad, we have to find a way. I have to be a part of this. I have to be there, please."

"I'm sorry, Dean. No, I order you when the time comes to stay out of this."

"I can't believe this. Sam went missing on my watch, I was the one who lost him, I let those two beasts get hold of him, brutalize him, beat him and I don't get to give some sort of payment back. This sucks!" Dean spat out his words, bolting up from his chair, his anger boiling, yet still ever careful not to wake Sam.

"I'm sorry son, I really am but that's my final decision. You will stay away."

Sitting back down, Dean stared furiously at his dad, John glaring right back, refusing to back down.

It was mid afternoon, two days later, when George returned. Both Winchesters were with Sam, they'd decided that it would be safer for them both to stay at all times. Walking in George was happy to see the youngest Winchester awake.

"John, Dean. Hey there Sam, glad to finally visit and see you up."

Sam squirmed further under the jacket and covers, but he didn't look away and offered a barely heard "Hi."

Dean spoke. "Sammy, this is George, he's the officer who found you. Do you remember?"

Sam shook his head in answer.

"That's okay." George responded. "I can't really take that honor anyway. Finding you was all down to a relentless beagle."

Sam looked at Dean. George's happy presence was becoming to much for him. Signaling silently with his eyes he hoped Dean would understand his discomfort. Dean understood straight away.

"George, why don't you, dad and I go outside to talk? Sam's about ready to drop off again." Watching George and his dad leave, he turned back to Sam. "Are you okay?" A small nod. "Do you want the TV on?" Another nod. Finding a documentary channel, he handed the remote to Sam before following the others. "I'll be right outside the door, Sam."

"What's up, George?" Dean asked the minute he stepped into the hall and saw George's stormy features.

"They got off. The bastards got off." George was nearly in tears. He had stood there, unable to do anything, as the Burton's had smirked and gloated their way out of the station, threatening to sue as they went. "Sam refusing to testify and a mistake meant there wasn't any evidence against them."

"A mistake. What do you mean a mistake?" John blurted out. Both Winchesters had known this was a possibility, but it was still a shock.

"Their lawyers claim that we entered the house illegally. That it was still the Burton's property and we should have got a search warrant. They claim they have no knowledge of Sam that he must've been taken there after they left. The lawyers state that the D.N.A evidence from the mattress is therefore inadmissible. Even if it was to be used, the lawyers claim that it could have gotten there any time over the past years they used the mattress. I'm so sorry guy's this is partially my fault."

"Hey, it's okay. We knew without Sam it was going to be hard to convict them. We don't blame you." John assured the stricken officer. "We can't stay here though. If their friends are as powerful as you say, we need to leave. George thanks for all you've done and tried to do for Sam." Turning to Dean he continued. "Get Sam dressed and ready to go, I'm going to check him out. Even if it means he has to go a.m.a."

John needn't have worried about the a.m.a forms. Dr. Walsh had heard what had happened and readily agreed that Sam would be better off hidden away, he was only about a week away from being well enough to be released anyway. Just so long as John agreed to bring him in for regular checks, kept Sam's appointments with the counselor and promised to call if they needed anything. Leaving the doctor's office, release forms in hand, John took out his cell and called Joshua again.

"You following them?"

"Yeah, right behind them. Gotta say Johnny, they're a right pair of smug bastards. You sure we can't just run them off the road?"

"No. That would be too quick for them. We're leaving for Caleb's now. Let me know when you have them."

The four hour ride to Caleb's had passed without incident, well once they had left the hospital that is. Sam had become anxious and fearful at the sheer amount of people, not wanting to leave the ward, wanting to hide behind the taller figures of his father and brother the wheelchair making that impossible, head held low, eyes avoiding everything. When they finally reached the car, Dean helped his brother into the back seat where he proceeded to burrow under the blanket that was placed over him.

Arriving at the cabin, they'd set about unpacking their few belongings, re-enforcing the protection symbols Caleb had dotted around, salting the doors and windows, and eating the take away pizza they had picked up on the way. Sam was half asleep on the small couch, smothered in a thick duvet, when Joshua finally called back. The two elder Winchesters stepped into the small kitchen to take the call. It was a quick one sided conversation. Ten words were all that were spoken.

"Got Them. We're at Jim's other place. Get here soon!"

John had left a short time afterwards, leaving an irate Dean tending to Sam. Sitting in his truck in front of a cabin, that was set back from the road and free from neighbors, John was debating what to do. Now that he'd got here he didn't think he could go in. Sam entered his thoughts. He could still remember the day he was born, Mary's boy. He remembered his first smile, his first day at school, his unending questions, the way his eyes lit up whenever he learned anything new, the way he had suddenly shot up in height this past year, his newly found rebellious streak that had him fighting every decision John made. John smiled briefly at these thoughts before he remembered his youngest son now. Sam never smiled anymore, it would be along time till he went back to school, he hardly spoke at all and no longer asked questions, his eyes were dull and lifeless, and he seemed to have shrunk in size, becoming timid and withdrawn, crying all the time, no fight left. Remembering that Sam gave him the courage to move. Leaving all his weapons behind for now, he didn't want to kill them too quickly; he walked to the front door.

Caleb was in the small living room/kitchen off the hallway; after quick greetings were exchanged he filled his friend in on what had gone down.

"Bobby's getting rid of their car, should be back soon. Joshua's in with the guy, cowardly piece of shit, broke down straight away. Been bawling his eyes out ever since. We took them as they were trying to leave the state, no witnesses. They've both received 'accidental' injuries I'm afraid, but nothing life threatening. Not yet anyway. We've got them separated and bound in a bedroom each. Took their clothes too. That's about it so far. How do you want to do this?"

"Bring them both out here, I want to see them."

John waited as Caleb went to retrieve the two Burton's. Looking up at the sound of scuffling, he watched as Joshua dragged a kicking and pleading Graham, whilst Caleb pushed an unrepentant, defiant Sherry. John felt the bile rise in his throat. He hadn't known what to expect, but the well fed, healthy, forty's looking couple wasn't it. They looked so normal.

"Tie them to the chairs." John finally got out. His anger was growing, his fists clenching and unclenching in an effort to stop from smacking the smug grin off of the woman's face. His efforts were in vain when she opened her mouth and spat out.

"He was so good."

For the first time in his life John hit a woman, landing his fist with force straight into her face, feeling the bones crack as they broke. Momentarily stunned, it wasn't long before the smug grin was back in place. It was like a red rag to a bull and just like a wild beast John struck. Cold-blooded, cruel and merciless he attacked the two Burton's pitilessly. He didn't care that she was a woman, or that the guy was apologizing profusely.

Fury had clouded all thoughts except Sam's broken spirit. Fists, feet, teeth, head, elbows, knees, all were used as months of anger, pain, frustration and despair were unleashed. By the time he had stopped both Burton's were unconscious, bloodied, bruised and broken.

"Fill up the bucket, I want them awake."

Joshua went to get the water as John wiped the blood off his hands, neck and face. Throwing the water over both of their captives, the three hunters waited for them to come around. Graham stirred first, disorientated and mumbling. A backhand to the face had him slowly focusing of the ferocious eyes of a still bristling John Winchester. The puddle of water at his feet growing as he lost control of his bodily functions. Rousing a short time later, Sherry was the complete opposite. Sitting straighter in her chair, chin jutted out, shoulders back, the defiance still there, even after the beating. Looking briefly at her husband, her disgust for him showing on her face, she spoke up.

"You stupid, weak prick. Grow a set of balls. They're not going to kill us; they're just like you not man enough." At getting no reaction from him, or the hunters, she tried again. "Oh come on Graham. I know you have a set somewhere, use them. You certainly had a pair when you used them and other things to breach little Sammy."

"Shut the fuck up, just shut up Sherry. This is your entire fault. You made me take him and do all those things to him. It's all on you."

"They're not stupid, even though they look it, Graham. They don't believe that for a second and if you believe it then you're even more pathetic than I thought you were." Turning to John she aimed to get as rise out of him. "We told him you didn't love him and never had. That you didn't want him anymore, that you thought he was useless and you didn't care to look after him anymore. As he lay there, and I rode him, we told him that you hated him. He was so very young, but he felt oh so good when he was inside me. I know Graham felt the same when he was inside Sam. In the end Sammy, you're pure and innocent Sammy was begging for it."

"You sick son of a bitch. I'm going to kill you!"

Dean couldn't stand it anymore; he couldn't just sit here and do nothing whilst his dad took care of business. Sam was his responsibility. It was his job to look after him and he'd failed. He had to get his revenge as well. Feeling a brief bite of remorse, over what he was about to do, he took two of Sam's sedatives out of the bottle and went to wake his sleeping brother.

"Sam, Sammy. Come on it's time for your pain meds."

Dean watched silently as Sam swallowed the medication before settling back under the quilt. Waiting fifteen minutes to make sure Sam was asleep, he picked him up and made his way to the Impala, where he settled him in the back seat. Dean might have wanted revenge but there was no way he was leaving Sam alone. Getting behind the wheel he set off for Jim's cabin. It was easy to find, they had stayed there quite often, so it wasn't long before he was coasting the car down the steep drive and parking beside his dad's truck.

Checking that Sam was still sleeping, he headed towards the cabin. Swiftly he snuck in the door and slowly and quietly made his way down the short hallway. He arrived just in time to see Sherry wake, and then hear her vicious words. It was all too much. After hearing her say that Sam had begged for it, he let them become aware of his presence.

"You sick son of a bitch. I'm going to kill you!"

Springing at Sherry and avoiding the other hunters, he had his hands around her throat, choking the life from her in seconds. A grin of pleasure never leaving her face, Sherry taunted Dean.

"He begged for you, Dean. He prayed that you would come, that you would save him, but you never did. Yours was the name he cried out for every time we took him."

Dean squeezed tighter. "Fuck you bitch". Repeatedly leaving his mouth.

John and Caleb finally jumped into action, grabbing Dean they managed to wrestle him off Sherry before he could kill the woman, immediately regretting it as she started mouthing off again.

"You should have killed me little boy. Because when I get out of here I'm going to find little Sammy and if you thought he came back broken before it's nothing to how I'll give him back to you next time. I'm going to take Sammy as my plaything, my toy. Make him play with me, make love to me and he'll enjoy it just like last time. He'll be begging for me once again. Sammy will be mine; I will find him once again and take him."

The last words had just left her mouth when a single gunshot resounded in the small room. Sherry's eye's looked down at her bleeding stomach, her fingers fascinated with the newly formed hole there. The five other sets of eye's all turned to look at the trembling, sobbing and frightened figure in the doorway.

Sam might have been emotionally and physically scarred at the moment, but one thing he wasn't was stupid. He had heard the conversations between his dad and Dean at the hospital and back here at the cabin. He could tell that Dean really wanted to be with his dad, Caleb, Joshua and Bobby, dealing with the Burton's. So when he was offered the pills he knew weren't painkillers, he pretended to swallow them. Waiting for Dean to turn away he quickly spat them out, hiding them down the cushions of the couch like he used to do when he was younger. Faking sleep, he felt Dean check him, felt him lift him up and carry him to the car, he felt the drive and he felt Dean check him again once they'd stopped.

Once Dean had left the car, he peeked from under the duvet and watched as he went inside the cabin. Opening the Impala's door he cursed the creakiness of the old car, before gingerly attempting to stand. Holding onto the backs of the cars for support he unsteadily made his way towards the cabin, faltering briefly at the gap between the last car and the couple of steps leading to the front door. Once inside he kept to the shadows of the hallway and inched his way closer to the voices he could hear. Catching Dean's cry of anguish, Sam's mind was as torn as John's had been earlier, leave now or go and face his attackers. His hearing becoming more accustomed, he began to pick out more of Sherry's vindictive words. Sam listened as she tormented Dean, before stating her plans for him.

Sam's memories broke through the barriers that he'd created to keep them hidden. For the first time he remembered everything, from the moment he'd left Dean playing basketball. Every beating, every harsh word, every rape. He remembered it all. He couldn't go through that again; he wouldn't go through that again. Spotting Dean's favorite gun lying on the floor, where he'd dropped it in his rush to get to Sherry, Sam picked it up. Creeping forward he entered the other room. Sam, with tremors coursing through his body, lifted his arm, took aim and fired.

**A.N. . . . . . Well I did warn you it was long. One more chapter to go I think. Just have to say I use the term 'woman' lightly when referring to Sherry. Thanks as usual to all who have taken time out to both read and review my little fic. Let me know what you think if possible. Was the justice too swift? Peanut x**


	10. Chapter 10

**Dangerous Beings.**

**Summary. . . . . Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean's 17. Rated T. This story does contain child abuse, but it won't be graphic. If you don't like please don't read.**

**Disclaimer. . . . Tried a spell Harry Potter gave me; it didn't get me the boys, just a rather upset house elf. Kripkie still owns.**

**A.N. . . . . So we reach the end of my little fic. To JoyofReading I hope I did you proud. And to Redwinged-Blackbird thanks for the laughs and input, and basically just being there if needed. Here's chapter 10, the final. . . . . . .**

Chapter 10. What does the future hold?

Five sets of eyes turned at the sound of the gun shot. Four in shock and one set in fear. Dean as always was the first to react. Moving slowly and carefully he inched towards Sam.

"Sammy, it's me, put the gun down." No response. "Hey Sammy look at me. It's okay, just put the gun down."

Sam moved his eyes away from Sherry and slowly began looking for his brother. "Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy. I'm here. Give me the gun please." Dean tried again, observing when Sam's eyes reached his, the glassy and unfocused look in them. Reaching to his brother, Dean gently pried the gun from his hand before passing it to John, turning back quickly as Sam's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.

"Dean this is exactly the reason I wanted you to stay away. I knew something like this would happen. Get Sam to the car and then take him back to Caleb's. Do not return here Dean."

Dean was unable to look his dad in the eye, picking up Sam he returned to the Impala; jumping slightly when two more shots rang out. Settling Sam on the back seat once again, he made his way from the cabin, praying that he hadn't made a huge mistake that would damage Sam further.

It was over two days before John returned to the cabin with Joshua. Two days that Dean had looked after Sam, who when he wasn't sleeping, he'd taken to doing that a lot again, would spend his time sitting in a chair on the porch that looked onto a lake, staring for hours at what Dean didn't know. Sam was already in bed when the two elder hunters entered the kitchen where Dean sat drinking a coffee.

"Son, any of that coffee spare?"

"Yeah, sure I'll get you both some. Are Caleb and Bobby outside?"

"No they stopped to finish some things off, Joshua's going to stay here tonight before heading home."

Joshua, feeling the tension in the air, took his cup before excusing himself. "Thanks Dean. John you sure you don't want me to take the couch?" Getting a "no" from John, Joshua left for the other bedroom.

Both older Winchesters sat in an uncomfortable silence, each casting furtive glances at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking. After fifteen minutes of this John had had enough.

"Dean, I didn't want you at the cabin because I knew you wouldn't leave Sammy. That you'd find some way to bring him along. I was worried about the effect this would have on him. That was my one and only reason."

"I know dad and I'm sorry that I disobeyed you. I just really needed to be there, but I wish I hadn't have gone now. I hurt Sam again, dad. After promising him that I wouldn't, I did. I don't know how to fix this. Dad, I'm so sorry."

John wanted to go and console his son, but a part of himself told him to back off. Dean would learn from this, from all of this. He'd look after Sam from now on with a renewed vigor. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. So John left Dean to contemplate his actions. Getting up, he was going to check on Sam before retiring to the couch. As he got to the door Dean spoke.

"Just tell me that they're gone?"

John nodded. "Salted and burned!" Walking to where Sam was asleep, John thought back over the last two days since they'd heard the shot.

_Caleb as soon as Dean had left with Sam had praised the younger boy's shooting skills, "Gut shot, nice one Sam. One slow and painful death coming up." John had just walked calmly towards Graham, staring at him dispassionately he placed the gun Sam had used against the side his left knee and pulled the trigger. Graham strained against the bindings as excruciating pain ran through his body. "Hold him down." John growled out before placing the gun against Graham's right leg and pulled the trigger once again, Graham slipped into unconsciousness almost instantly. The three hunter's had spent the next two days playing and watching. Playing with the Burton's every time they woke from the brief bouts of relief the hunter's let them have. A knife, needles, pliers, anything that was to hand was used. Watching as both Burton's took their last breaths, after spending agonizing hours bleeding out, whilst suffering in indescribable pain. Towards the end even the devious and defiant Sherry had been begging for her life. Offering the hunter's monetary rewards if they would just let her live. The hunter's though were resolute, these bastards had hurt one of their own and this was payback._

Bringing his thoughts back to today John pushed open the door. Looking closely he could see that Sam was anything but sleeping. Lying on his side, curled up as best he could with the cast on, hugging a pillow to his chest, Sam was wide awake and tearful. His heart breaking once more he went to comfort his youngest son. For once in his life he was going to be there for his son. All marine training of sucking it up was forgotten as he knelt before his distraughtchild and gently stroked the unruly bangs from his face, Thankful that Sam was so far inside his mind he didn't pull away and seemed to take the comfort that was on offer. That was how Dean found them later that night. Sam in a peaceful slumber, his dad sat on the floor; head resting on the edge of Sam's pillow, hand still on Sam's head, fast asleep.

It had been two weeks since the Burton's death, and they were still at Caleb's place. Sam's cast had been removed yesterday and although he still hobbled his walk was getting better. He still had problems with his left hand, the doctors now thinking that it would never fully heal. He still didn't eat much, talked even less. Every night he seemed to wake in a cold sweat, his nightmares alternating between relived memories of his time at the Burton's and the shooting of Sherry.

So although the bruises had long since healed and were no longer visible on the outside, he was still riddled with them on the inside.

Waking up shortly before seven, Sam crept quietly from the room. Slipping on his jacket, he grabbed a cup of coffee, something he had started to drink a lot of lately, and headed outside. Walking down to the lake, he sat beneath a large oak tree. Sipping on his coffee, he started to keep an eye on his watch. It had just hit fifteen minutes when he sensed Dean behind him. It was the same every day, Sam left, and Dean followed. Although Dean was getting better, the first day he was there within three.

Dean sat near his brother and they spent the next hour just watching the ripples on the water, neither talking. After the hour was up they returned to the cabin, where Dean proceeded to cook breakfast and tried as usual to get Sam to eat more.

"Hey Sammy. What do you fancy today? We got the full works, toast, cereal, pancakes?" Dean reeled of the list like a seasoned waitress.

"Toast" Sam replied.

"You sure? I can do eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns?"

"Don't Dean. I just want toast."

"I'm just saying Sam, you need to eat more. You're beginning to look like one of those runway models!'

Raising abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor, Sam's frustration surfaced. "Just forget it Dean. I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to take a bath." Before he stormed from the room and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Running the bath, Sam started to undress. Already frustrated it turned to anger at his own fumbled attempts to undo the buttons on his shirt. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, when he'd finally succeeded to get his shirt off, he hated the sight that greeted him, Dean was right he was too skinny. Reaching into the towel cupboard, to get one to cover the mirror, his hand brushed across something cold. Pulling his hand out, he could only stare at the gun that he now grasped in it, one of the many hidden around the place.

It was like a trigger to Sam, something inside of him seeming to break open. Slipping to the floor, gun hanging limply in his fingers, he started to cry.

Dean felt guilty. He had only been trying to help; but yet again his attempts had back fired. Trudging towards the room he was sharing with Sam, he became concerned when he came upon the bathroom door and could see water seeping from underneath. Carefully opening the door, they'd removed the lock so that Sam couldn't lock himself in; he was greeted by the sight of his brother, sat in his jeans and barefooted, on the floor. Overflowing bath water pooling around him and a gun in his hand.

Den's mind instantly thought the worst, Sam had tried once, was this another attempt? Rushing forward that thought left his mind as Sam's eyes met his. Although they'd seen Sam break down before, something was telling Dean that this time it was different. Kneeling beside his brother he waited. It wasn't long before the floodgates opened.

"I was coming back to you at the courts. I'd picked up Aliens; it was something I knew we both liked. The dog got tangled in my legs and when I went to get free someone came behind me. They had a cloth; it smelt funny. They held it over my nose and mouth. I tried to get away, I swear I did Dean, but I couldn't. The first time I woke up I don't know where I was, I was tied, blindfolded and gagged. Nothing happened then, but they used a needle on me for the first time.

"When I woke again, I was in the room with the mattress. That was the first time I was beaten; because I tried to escape, tried to get back to you. My hand got damaged then. I remember lying there afterwards, Graham had left for a bit, Sherry was consoling me; but it turned into something more. She, she. . . ."

"The rest of the days were much the same. They took my clothes because I wouldn't stop trying to escape. Eventually the drugs took over and I couldn't think straight, couldn't summon the energy to try any longer. Sherry and Graham made me forget who I was; forget my name; who you were. They made me do things to them, horrible things, things I'd never even saw or heard of before.

"I hated myself Dean. When I thought they had left at the end, I prayed that I would die; that it would be quick; that I could go and join mum. The first time I realized I was in the hospital, I was gutted. I really didn't want to live, so I tried to take my own life."

"So why didn't you go through with it? What stopped you?" Dean asked, in a non accusatory tone.

"You're going to think this is stupid. I couldn't leave you Dean. You, or dad. Thinking of you both stopped me."

Dean didn't know what to say. But then again, he thought, any words right now might stop Sam from talking and he needed to do this.

"I just feel so dirty, Dean. I cringe away because I can't understand how you can bare to be with me, touch me, love me. I'm not worthy of that love, Dean. Of any love. How can anybody ever love me again? How can I ever love anyone again? I love you and dad, but what will I be like with others? People are going to be disgusted when they find out what was done to me. "

As Sam paused, Dean thought he had finished and was going to answer, when Sam started talking again and the words Dean knew needed to come out finally did.

"They raped me, Dean. They both raped me. I should have tried harder to get away. I should have fought harder, but I didn't and they raped me; over and over and over. I feel so dirty, so unclean. How could I let them do that to me? I can still feel them touching me. I can still feel him inside of me. I hate feeling this way, but I can't stop. I'm dirty and unclean and disgusting and I don't know how you can even bare to look at me, let alone love me. I'm sick, Dean. I should disgust you. Why do you love me? Tell me why you do?"

"That's easy Sam. You're my brother, and your dad's son. No matter what, our love for you will never stop. You're the reason we get up every morning Sam. You bring light to our otherwise dark life. Without you we're nothing, we cease to exist. You might be a pmsing son of a bitch at times, but we wouldn't change you or give you away for the world. We love you Sam, always have, and always will. It wasn't your fault Sam, none of it; you have to start believing that. Come here."

Grabbing his brother in his arms, Dean held Sam tightly as the tears that had been flowing quietly turned into harsh sobbing that wracked his thin body. John, who had been sitting patiently outside the door, got up slowly and entered. Placing a hand on his youngest son's back he was surprised when, after a strangled "dad" had escaped Sam's lips, he thrust himself into his father's chest. Placing an arm around Sam, John held the other open, an invitation to Dean. The three Winchesters sat on the wet floor, entangled in each other, until the sobbing from each had subsided.

Sam was already in bed when the Winchester's received a surprise visitor later that night. Using Dr Walsh for help, George had managed to track them down. Ushering him into the kitchen, both John and Dean weren't surprised at his first words.

"The Burton's seem to have disappeared. Their lawyer reported them missing yesterday. I don't suppose you would have any idea where they could be?" At getting no response he continued. "I didn't think so. Something tells me that they may have met an untimely end though? That they might never show up again? I can but only hope."

Small talk was made before George got up to leave. Upon reaching his car he spoke again. "I have a present for Sam. I know he's asleep, so will you give it to him for me?"

"Yeah, sure George." John answered.

Leaning into his car he pulled out a box and handed it to Dean. Opening it up, he was met by the sad face of a beagle lying inside.

"This is the real hero of Sam's rescue. I thought it might help. It's been a pleasure knowing you. If you ever need any help just call, and take care of Sam." Getting in the car he started to drive off, shouting out the window as he went. "He answers to the name Max."

After George had left, Dean had placed the beagle on Sam's bed. After spending some time with his dad, he'd decided to get an early night; it had been a long and tiring day. Reaching the bedroom he was stopped on the threshold by the sight of the two figures on the other bed, silent tears marking tracks down his face. John was headed for the bathroom fifteen minutes later when he caught Dean still standing there.

"Hey, Dean. I thought you were going to bed? What's the matter? Is something wrong with Sam?"

"No dad, I'm just happy."

"What? Why?"

Dean just jerked his head into the room. Looking over Dean's shoulder, John caught sight of what had made his older son so happy, his heart mending all the more. Sam lay sleeping on the bed. The dog, guarding him as though his life depended on it, cradled protectively against his stomach. But that wasn't what had cheered the two Winchesters. No that was the look on Sam's face. A genuine smile adorned his face, the first real one they had seen in a very long time.

"You know we can't keep it."

"I know, but maybe for a little while. It can't hurt, and then we'll give him to Bobby. That way Sam will still see him from time to time."

George was finishing up some paperwork when the two men entered. "How may I help you?"

"We want you to tell us where the Winchesters are?"

"I'm sorry but who are you?"

"We represent the Burton family. We're looking into the disappearance of Sherry and Graham Burton. We believe that the Winchesters might have had a hand in their disappearance and would like to talk to them."

"Well I'm sorry but you've wasted your time coming here. I have no idea where they are and as I'm a busy man, I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Leaving the room one of the guys turned back. "You can pass on a message. We will find them!"

The end? . . . . . Or maybe it's just the beginning.

**A.N . . . . . As always thanks to all of you out there in fanfic land. I wrote something in a review reply and I thought I should also put it up here. It is an honor that you even take the time out to read my story and for that I'm truly thankful, to receive you reviews is an added bonus, for which I also thank you all. I hope you enjoyed this story and I'm sorry but it was just crying out to be left so that a sequel could be done. It won't be for a while as I must go back and finish my second story, Secrets and Demons, which kind of got pushed aside as this one took over. Thanks again, peanut x**


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